The Lost Files: Mourning's Night
by scarlet phlame
Summary: There's something wrong with the world. The weather patterns, the nightmares that plague kids whenever it rains. Without Toshiko and Owen, the tightly knit Torchwood team is beginning to unravel. But when rain drowns a teenage girl on a hot, sunny day, the team are given the chance to prove themselves. However, in the encroaching madness, Ianto Jones has forgotten Torchwood.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Ianto Jones forgets everything.

AN: I'm stalling on Ianto Dies At The End for a bit... Almost done with Part 2 of Frozen, so keep a Gorgon's Eye out for that. :)

This story was inspired by my lovely friends Evie and James... James got a pretty bad grade on his Shakespeare quiz, so I was cheering him up, telling him that I write all the time and I rarely use any of the words on the quiz. Evie was staring at the mountains and complaining that it was going to rain.

Enjoy...

* * *

"Can you feel rain?" Shannon glanced up at the air, feeling the cold wind brush across her shoulder and send the edges of her jacket flapping. Her hand moved up to touch her cheek, and it came away slightly damp. She stared at her hand blankly, before hurriedly wiping it off on her jeans, jogging slightly to keep up with Kyle.

"I can't stand it," Kyle ranted, staring at his most recent test score. "I mean, when do you ever need english skills in life? Am I ever gonna go up to someone and say, 'hey, your irises illuminate the sky' or whatever? Who even says 'iris'? You say 'eye', for God's sake."

"I think it's raining," Shannon repeated, feeling rain splatter on her cheek and rubbing it away. Nervously, she glanced up at the sky- the sun was high in the air, the fiery orb suspended in the middle of the pools of blue.

"I mean, come on, Shakespeare's a clever bloke, but it's not like I'm ever gonna write a novel or 'nothing," Kyle continued, glancing at Shannon over his shoulder. "You okay? You look a bit nervous."

"It's raining," Shannon whimpered, hurrying to keep up with Kyle. "I can tell. It's raining." her eyes were glued to the sky.

Kyle rolled his eyes, turning back around. She could see the back of his head shaking. "Ha, very funny."

Panicking, Shannon threw up her arms over her head as more water flowed down. "Kyle," she whispered. "It's raining. I swear to God, it's raining." water dripped down onto her neck. "Kyle, help me!"

Kyle frowned, and turned. "Shannon, you're dry as a bone," he scoffed.

"Help me," Shannon whimpered. "Oh, my God, help me." her eyes were wide with panic, and she kept on wringing out her hair with her hands.

"This one of your weird anime things?" Kyle chuckled, eyes glinting mischievously. "You need to warn me before you launch into that."

Shannon grabbed onto his sleeve, frantically glancing behind her. "Kyle, it's raining. It's- I think there's someone following me. Please, please, let's just go into the building."

Prying her fingers off of his sleeved arm, Kyle sent her a strange glance. "Shannon-"

"Please, please, let's just go into the Atherton building," Shannon pleaded, desperate panic lacing her tone. "I'll buy you an ice cream later. Please?"

Kyle smirked. "Well, can't resist a bar of Hagen Daz', can I?" he outstretched a crooked arm, as if to escort her, and she grabbed it and hurried their pace, still glancing behind her frantically.

Brines of rain smashed down on her head, and she let out a shriek, letting go of Kyle's arm and taking off towards the sheltered building. Kyle raced after her, now concerned about Shannon's strange behaviour.

"Hey, are you okay?" her eyes kept on darting all over the place as she ran. To Kyle, the place was bone-dry, but Shannon was drowning in the onslaught of rain. Choking, she coughed up water.

"Help!" she screamed, collapsing onto the ground and coughing rapidly. Kyle knelt next to her, watching water gush out from the corners of her mouth.

Then it stopped.

Her body spasmed once, twice.

Shannon had drowned.

* * *

When Ianto Jones woke up at 6:00 in the morning, the first thing he thought of was the diamond ring resting next to him in his bedside drawer. He'd bought it just the other day. Jamie had helped him pick, squealing with excitement at the one he'd finally decided upon. Diamond with a platinum band- he'd been concerned it wasn't ever enough for Lisa- his Lisa- but Jamie'd just romanticized the entire thing, set up reservations for their dinner, bought candles, even gotten them the balcony seats to the best view in town.

Ironically, Jamie was the only single woman in his department of Torchwood One.

(Well, she was a lesbian.)

Ianto blinked, sat up in bed, the bedsheets cascading off of his waist like a waterfall. He let out a gentle yawn and threw his legs over the side of the bed, preparing to get ready for work. But then he froze.

These weren't his sheets.

And there was another body lying in the bed next to him.

Warily, he eyed the darkness illuminating the room, waiting for his vision to adjust. His breath quickened and his heart fluttered with anxiousness when he saw that this was definitely not his flat.

It wasn't Lisa's, either.

His gaze fell upon two small piles of clothing lying on the floor, just a few feet away. That fact didn't do much to help his panic. All he could think was, _what the hell was I doing last night? _The body next to him in the bed shifted, and, startled, he did the only thing he could think of.

He leapt- no, _flew_ out of the bed and grabbed wildly at the first thing he thought to use as a weapon. The person- the guy in the bed blinked.

He blinked, too, and found a revolver lying on a desk nearby.

"I'll shoot," he roared, but that didn't stop the man trying to get closer to him. The gun was gripped in both of his hands, and he didn't remember cocking it when the bang echoed through the room.


	2. Chapter 2

This Chapter's Summary: Ianto had been 25 when he'd gone to bed the other day... and when he'd woken up, he was 23.

* * *

Jack's eyes flitted open. Moaning, he sat up with some nonexistent strength and wearily gazed around the room, glare falling onto the Welshman curled up in a protective ball in the corner, revolver pressed to his head. His shoulders quaked.

The immortal crawled towards Ianto and silently wrapped a hand around the gun. The other man flinched violently and his eyes snapped open.

"You were dead," he said simply.

"You missed me," Jack told him, unsure what to think. Conflicted nervousness gnawed at his emotions and he tenderly peeled the gun out of the other man's grasp. Ianto let him take it, his hands limp. "barely hit me."

"I shot you in the head," Ianto said uncertainly, an ember of fear burning itself into his gaze. Then, he spoke three words that only dragged Jack down further. "Where am I- who are you?"

* * *

"Ah, you're finally awake. Had me worried for a moment, there," Gwen grinned, typing furiously at a computer. She glanced absently over her shoulder, and then frowned. "There's blood on your shirt."

"Food coloring," Jack dismissed, dragging Ianto towards the computer by the collar of his white shirt. "Not important. I need you to scan Ianto for amnesia."

"What the hell, Jack?" Gwen chuckled, a small smirk playing across her features. A little mannerism that quickly died away when Jack's expression remained grave. "You're kidding, right?"

"Scan him," Jack ordered. Ianto shivered beside him. "He can't remember a thing. Says the last thing he recalls is-" his voice trailed off, and his expressions hardened.

"Fine," Gwen grunted, letting her arms fall down to her side as she sifted through the documents on the desk next to her. It was clear that whatever Jack had gotten out of Ianto was something she wasn't going to hear. "Gotcha, some notes Owen made before..." her voice trailed off, and she glanced uncertainly at Ianto. "Well, we can take him down to autopsy, give him a proper scan."

She walked off briskly, Jack in tow and Ianto tagging along nervously. Gwen was sure she'd never seen Ianto in such a state before. Normally, he was tidy, not a crease to be found in his clothing or a strand of flyaway hair on his forehead. Now, she saw an unkempt Welshman nervously following his boyfriend around like a POW.

What the hell had happened?

"Right, just place your hand on the scanner," she said, offering him a grin. When he turned, she sent a burning glare at Jack. It was all he needed.

"I don't know," he retorted to her unasked question.

The little green light quickly blipped across Ianto's hand, and scanned him... clear. Healthy.

And aged 23 years old.

Ianto had been 25 when he'd gone to sleep the other day... and when he'd woken up, he was 23.

"What the hell?" Jack asked, effectively voicing aloud all the questions swamping the room.

"Jack, can I have a word in private?" Gwen hissed, through clenched teeth. Her hands were curled into fists so tight her knuckles had begun to turn pale.

"Sure." the Captain dropped his folded arms to his side and marched up the railing, leaving a bewildered Ianto behind.

"What the hell happened, Jack?" Gwen demanded, once they were out of earshot.

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "I'm guessing aliens."

Gwen laughed breathlessly. "Jack, we can't afford to lose another teammate," she stuttered. "I mean, we're already falling apart as it is! What are we gonna do- we're gonna work ourselves to death!"

"We'll fix him," the immortal said in his best Captain voice.

"And what if we can't? What if this is permanent?" Gwen hissed.

"I don't know, Gwen," Jack sighed, his tone faltering. "I... damn it, I wish Tosh and Owen were here!"

Gwen glanced back at the man in the archives. "Right, well, we're going to sort this out and figure out what the hell's going on here."

* * *

"You okay?" Jack asked. Ianto quietly nodded, and allowed the taller man to guide him into a chair. Inhaling sharply, he swallowed. "Right, we'll start off with the basics. You're in Torchwood Three, Cardiff. I'm Captain Jack Harkness, your boss-" Gwen could almost hear the unspoken labels in that one- "and this is Gwen Cooper. You're second-in-command."

Ianto seemed completely un-phased by this revelation.

"You've been working here for a couple of years- you just turned twenty-five. What's the last thing you remember?"

"That's two years I've forgotten," Ianto said, simply. It wasn't an answer, just a statement.

"I know the feeling," Jack replied, quietly, the sort of 'posh' voice gone now, replaced by someone with genuine concern for the man in front of him.

Gwen watched the scene with her arms folded over her chest, the sleeves of her leather jacket sticking to the front of the black mass. She could see Jack struggling to keep a neutral face- wondered how long this might go on for.

Ianto leaned forward and rubbed his face with his hands. "Um... I was... there was a ring in my dresser drawer. I was- was gonna propose to Lisa. She's, my, um, girlfriend."

"We know," Jack said simply.

"Christ," Ianto muttered. "Is she still here, does she work here?"

Jack looked at the desk.

"Tell him," Gwen said.

"Lisa's... dead."

"How?" Ianto's voice cracked.

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry," Jack whispered.

"No, if I've been working here for two years, you owe it to me to tell me how she died." a brine of tears rushed down his face. "Damn it, just tell me!"

Jack peeled himself away from the scene, facing the door. "I'm going to go check on the Rift," he said, quietly. "We're going to fix you, Ianto. I promise."

And then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

This Chapter's Summary:

Ianto Jones has a fob watch. A pocket watch he's always had, his entire life. A pocket watch that the team has never seen before. A pocket watch that predicts the time of death for whenever the invisible rain comes. A pocket watch with concentric circles engraved on the top.

A pocket watch that's broken and he looks at as if it doesn't exist.

AN: This chapter's a monster... watch out for those huge walls of text... and good luck.

* * *

Ianto Jones had a fob watch. It was hardly the largest of his worries at the time being, but he had one. He'd always had one. He could remember it. It was merely there, but it didn't really exist.

He didn't know why he was thinking of it right now.

He could hear voices from the other room- Cooper's and Harkness'. He thanked God for his eidetic memory- he didn't want to forget the only information he'd been supplied with. Their names. (Besides, he wasn't sure what would happen if he forgot something trivial as that. They might think something was really wrong with him- and he didn't want there to be.)

Conflicted, he stood, shakily. He didn't know what his place was. Harkness- the captain- his boss- kept staring at him like he would fly into pieces without some sort of confirmation he was the Ianto Jones he'd known and worked with. (And possibly loved. But he really, really didn't want to think about that morning. He could barely remember it, as it was. It was just a bit of a blur.) And then there was Cooper- she kept on staring at him like he was the last thing holding her together. (That was, when she wasn't staring at Harkness.)

How could this branch only be made up of three people? How could they possibly survive everything- all the aliens, dangers, madness that Torchwood dredged up from depths unknown, from both space and time? He'd read files on this place- knew that Harkness was something of a loose cannon, heard the rumors that the man was immortal. (But thinking about Harkness hurt his head... and he honestly wanted nothing more than to be able to sit in peace, without any pain.) His mind was a mess of invading memories and fears and doubts and dreads and it was just so bloody confusing that he could hardly manage to walk without stumbling.

He leaned a hand against the wall to keep himself stable, breathing labouredly. Everything was so confusing... could he believe a word of it? He shook his head in disbelief. There had to be some sort of mad explanation for this; maybe they'd kidnapped him and dragged him over here. Maybe they were aliens of some sort, bent on destroying the planet, and in order to do so, they needed information. Never come into a battle without knowing your enemy, his dad had always said (but if thinking about Harkness hurt, thinking about his dad only hurt more). He was the head archivist of Torchwood One, after all. If anyone wanted information, they'd surely come through him. But, then again, he'd seen the way Cooper and Harkness had looked on at him... and from what he could (barely) remember of his encounter with Harkness this morning, there was something much more between them than boss and employee, even if he wasn't willing to admit it to himself just yet. (Or even think about it.)

He supposed that Harkness and Cooper knew him better than he even knew himself. Just by glancing at his arm, he could see scars (bite marks?) he hadn't seen when he'd last opened his eyes. (Well, technically speaking, anyway.) Everything was just a bit of a blur- and it was like waking up from some sort of strange dream. He could barely remember what'd happened this morning, as it was.

Pulling up a contrived, blank expression, he cracked open the door, just in time to catch the residue of Harkness' and Cooper's conversation.

"There isn't any CCTV out of the ordinary, you two just headed down there."

"There has to be something that hit him. What did we do the other day?"

"Weevil alert, sorted that, locked them up, I went home. Christ, Jack, you were the one with him."

"We just went to sleep."

"Yeah, I bet you did."

Wryly, Ianto observed as their conversation quickly morphed into another beast as soon as they became aware of his presence. He eyed their lackluster expressions with unease, before clearing his throat a bit loudly.

"Right, so, we've pulled up some files. Shannon Chung, found dead at her school's campus. The only witness- Kyle Langer- apparently claims she drowned," Harkness hummed, tucking away a tuft of his dark hair and glancing at the Welshman standing soundlessly in the corner. "Maybe it's connected, somehow."

Ianto glanced around the place distractedly. There were papers strewn about. Torchwood Three was a mess... an absolute mess.

Then, a sudden wave of nausea hit Ianto, and he cried out in pain, stumbling backwards. The world whirled around him, and he desperately struggled to maintain consciousness- although he wasn't sure why, and then everything cut to black.

* * *

When he woke up, he was lying in a small, dirty cell. The walls were grubby and the containment glass was foggy. He winced when a sudden memory of cleaning that very same wall hit him in a wave, and he blinked.

"What?" he slurred, and then he became aware that Harkness was watching him. Quite fervently. For some reason, the situation he'd found himself in felt oddly familiar- almost too familiar.

_Shut up Jones. You don't know what you're thinking_, a little voice in his head snapped at him, and, as if it were a normal thing to have unfamiliar voices in your head- he listened. But mainly because he was too tired to think about anything- and frankly, there was a lot of blood on Harkness' shirt.

Why was there so much blood on the Captain's shirt?

"Torchwood," Harkness said simply, and Ianto just blinked, staring at him expectantly, as if imagining a sudden epiphany of information would hit him in the forehead, freely. Harkness' voice was calm- almost lulling, and he felt his eyelids grow slightly heavy again, before snapping them back open.

"Interesting," Harkness noted.

(It was. It was very interesting.)

"Why'm I in a cell?" he slurred, fresh memories hitting him like a wave- loading Weevils in, a man in some sort of marching band outfit with dirty blonde hair- exhaustion- and the Captain in disarray, hair messy and face covered with dirt. (Why would there be dirt on his face?)

The man raised an eyebrow. "You shot me."

He could barely remember the morning, and he told the Captain- his boss- just that.

"No, you shot me as soon as you walked out of my office," Jack responded simply.

"Ow!" he leaned forward, clutching at his skull, as he felt something- some sort of cycling pain- gnaw at his head. And then, mercifully, it was over. Harkness watching him the whole time, just looking... interested.

"So, tell me. Where is Ianto Jones, and what have you done with him?" Harkness asked coldly, brutally.

Tears stung Ianto's eyes. "Please. I don't... I... I swear, I can't remember a thing. I can't... I didn't shoot you."

The Captain raised an eyebrow. "Try telling that to my shirt." he glanced down at the formerly white garment, hints of feigned amusement playing across his handsome features.

(Since when did he start thinking about men- men, specifically his boss- as handsome?)

He placed a hand on his trousers, wiping away sweat- but then something burned his hand. Yelping in surprise, he pulled out the white-hot pocket watch, dropping it onto the floor of his cell.

The Captain eyed it warily. "Tell me that that isn't some sort of a bomb, please. And... where the hell did you get that from? I checked all your pockets," he demanded, anger flashing across his features.

(They always get mad when they don't understand.)

A bit phased- and slightly intimidated by that sudden thought, he reached over and picked up the fob watch, cradling it near him tenderly.

"It's not a bomb," he said softly, and then turned it over. "I've had it since... I can't remember."

(He really didn't know why he was telling Harkness this.)

But he was positive that the moment Harkness laid eyes on the concentric circular engravings on the watch, that everything had changed.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I have the flu and I'm supposed to be asleep... also, everything's kind of spinny, like when I was on that ride at the carnival...

(shrugs) I needed to update. :D

* * *

Jack visibly flinched, retreating a step as memories- memories of the Year and the Master flooded his mind.

His fingers flew across the buttons of his Vortex Manipulator, and the cell door slid open. "I'm taking that," he snapped, yanking the fob watch out of the Welshman's hands. It seemed to hum in his hands, and he stared at it nervously, swallowing. It was like... it was speaking to him.

(Don't open me.)

"Jack," his earpiece buzzed, startling him out of his thoughts. The fob watch went cold in his palm, and he gripped it slightly tighter, as if willing it to speak. Willing it to come back to life again.

It didn't.

"We've got a couple of reports coming in up here," his earpiece chirped.

"On my way up," Jack responded, folding his arms across his hest and studying the man inside the cell. "Stay here," he added, as the grungy glass doors sealed themselves together.

He felt Ianto's eyes burning into his shoulder as he walked off, and he shuddered. (Where are you, Ianto?)

* * *

"Get anything out of him?" Gwen asked, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Just this." Jack dropped the fob watch on the counter next to Gwen. Silver hit the metal table with a loud, unearthly clang, and Gwen flinched.

"God, what the hell is that?" she moaned.

"Ianto had it," Jack mumbled. "Fake Ianto, I mean." He shook his head, staring at the computer blankly.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Gwen replied, but her voice sounded flat and slightly emotionless. "What do you think-"

Jack shook his head firmly. "Could be some sort of a clone. He seems pretty convinced he's innocent. I doubt it's a mind-wipe. We'll do everything we can to find him. He's got to be somewhere."

"Yeah." Gwen sounded distracted. "Okay, look at this. We've got reports coming up of a strangling; High-Pack school. One suspect, and that's Kyle Langer. He keeps on insisting that the victim, Shannon Chung, drowned. There are signs of water on the victim's clothing, but also bruise marks on her throat, about the size of his hands," Gwen explained, eyes scanning across the page. "What do you think, worth investigating?"

"It could be connected," Jack said, still unable to tear his gaze away from the fob watch resting on the counter. "Happened around the same time..." Gwen shot him a curious look, but otherwise didn't say anything. "Well, then. Kyle Langer, let's see what you have to offer."

* * *

The air smelt of cleaners and chemicals, and Gwen winced slightly as she walked into the room, but didn't hesitate to offer the brown-haired teenager sitting in the fold-up chair a little smile and take a seat across from him.

"Hi, I'm Gwen Cooper, and this is Jack Harkness," she greeted, smile still glued to her face. "We came to ask you about Shannong Chung-"

"I didn't kill her," Kyle whimpered, eyeing the linoleum floor. "I swear, I didn't. Please, you have to believe me."

"We believe you, Kyle, we don't think you killed her." Gwen hesitated. "But we have some things we'd like to ask you."

Kyle let out a little laugh that turned into more of a cough. "Yeah, you believe me, but you still don' trust me."

"Look, I promise, we can help. Just tell us what happened," Gwen pleaded. Jack shifted in his chair uncomfortably, tugging at the fabric of his collar.

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"But better be crazy and not a killer, right?" Jack chuckled. Gwen glanced at him, an odd expression on her face, and he shrugged it off. "Tell us about it."

Kyle leaned back in his chair, running his tongue across his lower lip. "We were just walking to the cafeteria at lunch. I was complaining about this test I took- bad score, y'know." He shook his head, closed his eyes and wiped away the tears with the cuff of his longsleeved shirt. "Eh, she was goin' on 'bout the rain-"

"What rain?" Gwen cut in sharply.

Kyle shrugged. "Dunno. She just wouldn' stop talkin' 'bout it, yeah? Jus' went on an' on, said it was raining. I told her she was nuts, but she seemed really concerned. Thought she was just being silly." He paused, voice wavering. "But then she jus' sort of fell over. She wouldn't wake up- I tried to get her to wake up, but..." Kyle shuddered, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "An' then the cops came, said I strangled her, wanted to know what happened- you, you wanna know what happened, but how can I say when I don't even know what happened?"

Gwen leaned forward in her chair. "It's okay, Kyle. Is there anything else you saw?"

Kyle hesitated. "No. It's all a bit blurry. Think it's the shock."

Jack nodded, brow furrowing as he folded his hands on the table. "Kyle, mind if I ask you a question?" The brunette shook his head. "Does this remind you of anything, bring anything up?" Jack held up the fob watch.

Kyle shook his head again. "No, never, sorry. But..." He froze, scratching the back of his neck. "It's... it doesn't look right."

"That's all," Jack said simply, pocketing the watch again. Gwen just barely caught the note of disappointment on his tongue. He pushed both hands against the table and stood.

"Thank you," Gwen said, grinning at Kyle. "And, Kyle, don't worry, I'm sure this is all just a mistake."

Kyle watched them as they left.


End file.
